Page 120 of Glass (Crank 2)

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a taller head, one

more little whiff

(what could it hurt?),

finally cresting

steep cliffs of speed,

rising above mundane,

towering over ordinary.

No sense of fear,

I sit in my room,

sketching beneath

pale lamplight.

No sense of foreboding,

I listen to Leigh

and Heather giggling

behind the too-thin

walls, doing

whatever

girlfriends do. At

last, they fall silent.

I immerse myself

in charcoal portraiture,

not even stressing about

the fact that it might

be a while before I have

time to sketch again,

or that I have most

definitely embarked on

a major bender.

But I Have

And not only that, but in

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